


exactly what i want

by hawrthiacoopri



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, M/M, PWP kinda, Pining, dominant stan, handjobs, i just love the ask blog this is based off of, i listened to pink martini and the von trapps as i wrote this, it was written just to squeeze some porn in but it evolved into much more, not sexy music i know but so good, or facefucking i guess i call it either, slowburn(ish), throatfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 16:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14429484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawrthiacoopri/pseuds/hawrthiacoopri
Summary: “Benjamin, did I or did I not tell you to please stay here?” Stan’s voice was quiet and level, his hand still on Ben’s chest, keeping him down, and he nodded frantically.“Yes, Stan. I’m sorry.”





	exactly what i want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sovvie118](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sovvie118/gifts).



> my first it work in a while and im pretty happy with it. based off of the adult interpretations of the losers club on the tumblr blog @askpolylosersclub. dedicated to them. enjoy!

Out of any sort of drinking game, Ben loved to play Never Have I Ever the most. Not because it was particularly eye opening, since the Losers usually knew about and/or were involved with whatever the others were drinking to, but because on the odd occasion they didn’t know or weren’t involved, it was always the best part of their whole day.

It was also the easiest way to get Stan sloshed- a sight that Ben secretly loved. 

They were all sitting on the floor of their communal living room in a circle; well, sort of. It was close enough to a circle to be one, though Richie and Eddie were competing for a place on Bill’s lap like starved hyenas and Beverly was currently out of the circle to get more beer and wine. The wine was for Stan, who refused to drink anything but his own very nice wine that he got from the department store he worked at if there wasn't a bartender around.

“Okay, okay, I got one,” Richie said when she came back, much louder than necessary. “Never have I ever… tried to pick one of the others up from work to fuck them.” Ben was slightly surprised Richie himself had never done that, but Bill, Mike, and Eddie all drank to that, and Eddie’s sip was met with a cocked eyebrow from Stan. 

Eddie rushed to his own defense; “I didn’t say it worked! And Richie tricked me, I didn’t even want to, he told me his shift was over.” Stan wordlessly shifted his disapproving gaze to Richie, and Richie shrugged it off easily, obviously having no regrets about his misbehavior. 

Ben didn’t understand how Richie could do that- how he could so easily brush Stan’s seeming disappointment off. He felt that he, himself, could never do that- that is, if Stan ever actually spared him a glance. 

Ben had spent most of his life in simultaneous awe and envy of Stanley Uris. As teenagers, Stan’s easy self control had seemed unattainable to him, someone struggling with trying to lose weight. The way he’d simply turned away food and drink with a tiny ‘thanks, but no’, how he managed to always look so put together and almost unrealistically perfect, like a Grecco-Roman statue. He supposed it had something to do with the difference in their disposition- Stan had no problem turning others down. He didn’t feel bad saying no to food and things. Ben, on the other hand, always had. It was part of the reason he’d ever gotten that big in the first place. 

For many years, Ben spent his time pining after Stan in a borderline unhealthy way. As an adult it lessened since he was now fit enough that he deemed it acceptable, but he was still jealous of Stan’s complete ease. He never looked out of place or out of control anymore, like he used to. He was so comfortable with all the Losers despite being such a private person. Ben wished he wasn’t so private, sometimes; he wished he could know things about Stan no one else did. He wanted it almost desperately. He wanted Stan just to look at him, spare him a glance for once. Perhaps that was unfair, though; Stan was a very busy man. Still, though… 

He was so lost in this random train of thought he was having about his nonexistent relationship with Stan, he almost didn’t notice that his phone had buzzed. He looked down at it, seeing a text from Beverly, and automatically checked it. 

_[Bev]_  
what are you so distracted for? 

He glanced up at her and briefly thought of lying, and then thought better of it. Bev would know, and he didn’t feel like being psychoanalyzed. 

_[Ben] _  
just thinking about stan. __

__Ben saw her glance up at Stan, who was currently drinking to something about bondage, before typing up another message, a smile faint on her lips._ _

____[Bev]__  
what about stanley the manley?  
he’s a little tense right now, did   
he say something? 

___[Ben]_  
nah. he hasn’t talked to me in days._ _

____[Ben]__  
which is kinda the problem. i wish he  
like knew i existed lol. thats what i was  
thinking about. like i know with seven   
of us living here it’s hard to talk to all of   
us especially when stan’s stan but i don’t  
know why its bothering me so much 

____[Bev]__  
ohh ok. well i can tell you that he’s very   
stressed about night school as of late  
and he’s probably busy doing other stan   
things. he has a lot of stan things to do 

___[Ben]_  
what kinds of stan things_ _

____[Bev]__  
well theres lots of sorts of stan things he   
does as a stan himself but i know recently   
he’s been looking into getting therapy for   
a relapse in his eating problems. other  
than that i couldn’t tell you. he’s a busy man 

____[Bev]__  
especially since stan sex is a hot commodity  
in this household. i havent even gotten any  
in a week or two 

___[Ben]_  
back up wait eating problem ? _ _

____[Bev]__   
he’s been recovering from it since sophomore  
year of college babe. i thought you knew, he  
had one from late middle school until then 

__There was a beat while Ben collected the shattered idea of Stan he’d previously had._ _

___[Ben]_   
was it like mine? _ _

____[Bev]__   
no he had bulimia. and he’s better now that  
he has a better support system but he’s def  
struggling 

__There was another pause in their conversation when Beverly had to drink to wearing lingerie as outer clothing, along with Eddie and (unsurprisingly, as he drank silently to most of the sexual ones) Stan, before Bev texted again._ _

____[Bev]_   
he looks like he’s gonna leave soon. if you   
left with him i’m sure he’d talk to you. _

____[Ben]_   
i dont want him to feel like he has to   
talk to me _

____[Bev]__   
ben, i’m sure he’d love your company. he’s  
just in a bad spot right now. stan would  
actually probably benefit from having you  
of all people talk to him. you get what he’s  
going through. go talk to him. 

__As if Bev had preemptively read his mind, Stan got up to leave._ _

__“I think I’m gonna go to bed now, guys. I’m getting wine tired.” He ignored Richie’s protests at him being such a grandpa, kissed Bill goodnight, and made his way to the bedroom he and Bill shared. Beverly’s urgent eyes forced Ben up too, and he bid them farewell like Stan had._ _

__When Ben entered Stan’s bedroom, knocking briefly on the doorframe as he walked into open room, Stan was lying on his back on what Ben presumed was his side of the bed. The stockier man laid down next to him, already knowing Bill would be fine with him being there since they all swapped beds constantly, and before he even thought of what to say, Stan spoke._ _

__“What do you need, Ben?” Stan said it with his eyes still closed, which fascinated him._ _

__“How did you know it was me?”_ _

__“No one else would ever knock on an open door. Besides Mike, who is clearly already planning on going to bed with Bill, who has never left a drinking game early, and so is eliminated from the chances of being here. So what do you need?”_ _

__Ben was taken aback by the directness despite having expected it; he guessed he had secretly hoped Stan would be different with him. Gentler, maybe. “I, uh- I just wanted to talk to you, I guess. I can leave. I’m gonna leave.” He started to get up as he said it, resolve crumbling, but he felt a firm hand on his chest push him back onto the bed._ _

__“No, please stay here.” Stan’s voice was soft, but there was a distinct dominant power behind it. It made Ben feel unfathomably more nervous, but it was a good nervous. Anticipative, almost, like he felt with Bev right before they had sex. That thought made him flush pink in the dark- Stan wasn’t going to fuck him, was he? Ben didn’t think so, at least. “Is this about me relapsing?”_ _

__He said it so calmly, so assured despite the conversation literally being about him losing control, Ben couldn’t even gather words._ _

__“Is it?” He repeated, this time tilting his head to look at Ben._ _

__“I… yes,” he says lamely, and he feels Stan’s energy change almost imperceptibly. “Beverly told me. And I wanted to help, or talk to you, or something but it’s clearly not wanted so I’m just gonna-“_ _

__“Benjamin, did I or did I not tell you to please stay here?” Stan’s voice was quiet and level, his hand still on Ben’s chest, keeping him down, and he nodded frantically._ _

__“Yes, Stan. I’m sorry.” He blurted it out, and he flushed completely red at the submission in his own voice._ _

__He looked anxiously at Stan as if to apologize, but Stan had a faint smile on his face at Ben’s phrasing. Ben could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “It’s fine. What did you want to talk about?”_ _

__“Uh. I don’t know. I kind of didn’t think I’d get this far…” Ben trailed off and cursed himself for being so hopeless at that moment; he usually always knew exactly what to say and when to say it in these sorts of situations, where he was offering comfort, but now he was totally lost. Maybe it was Stan’s steady, warm hand on his chest or his eyes that bore into Ben’s softly defined jaw as he talked. But whatever Stan might have been thinking he kept quiet, waiting for Ben to gather his thoughts. To buy himself time, he rested his hands on his stomach over his belly button and cleared his throat. He still had nothing. “I really don’t know, I’m sorry. I feel like I’m wasting your time.”_ _

__There was amusement creeping on the edges of Stan’s voice when he replied. “Ben, it’s eleven at night on a Saturday. There’s nothing else i could possibly have to do. Do you just want to lie here with me for a little?”_ _

__“I’d like that,” Ben replied gratefully. He knew he couldn’t even hope for any sort of cuddling, since Stan never did that unless he’d just had sex, or so Bev had told him. He was happy to just have the tiniest amount of contact with him._ _

__They laid in silence, Stan occasionally tapping his fingers against Ben’s chest while they relaxed. It was peaceful, really, and it was some much needed quiet time for both of them to just recoup and think about their days. It was, surprisingly enough, Stan who broke the silence._ _

__“I don’t think I need to ask why you’re the one who feels the need to come to me about this specifically.”_ _

__Taken aback by the directness of the statement, Ben shook his head. “I suppose not, I mean. If you  
think you don’t you probably have it right.” It was also common knowledge among the Losers that Ben had also had a pretty terrible relationship with food, but if Stan was scared of even outright saying it he wasn't going to stop dancing around it too. _ _

__“I’m sure I do.” He was silent before saying jokingly, “we’re not so different, you and I,” and Ben swore he had to be mistaken, but he thought he sensed a tinge of shame in Stan’s voice. He didn’t like it._ _

__“I don’t want you to feel ashamed of it,” he said, voicing his concern aloud. “I just wanted you to know I’m here for you and I can help you. I fully recovered a few years ago, and I have a meal plan that I could start including you in if you wanted, and-“_ _

__Stan cut him off with a gracious “thanks, but no,” and he must have felt Ben’s surprised disappointment at his quick refusal, so he continued. “I just… this is something I have to handle on my own. I’ll try to keep you updated. But this is private until further notice.”_ _

__“Oh. Okay. That’s totally fine.”_ _

__Ben hadn’t meant to sound so downtrodden, but his voice fell flat and he felt Stan’s finger trace a wide circle around his breastbone- just barely touching his nipples as he did it, Ben couldn’t help but notice- in a silent regret. “I’m not even talking about it to Bill, if that’s consolation,” He offered in apology. “I’m probably not going to see the therapist anyway. I’d just end up quitting, so why waste money on it.”_ _

__Ben felt a twinge of sadness at Stan’s concrete statements- he could never understand how Stan could be so rational and self-conserving despite how clearly lonely he was. It wasn’t as if he was alone, he was about six times as not alone as anyone, but he was _lonely_. He isolated himself and kept from worrying the Losers when he had problems he was ashamed of, and he never lashed out from how lonely he was or felt. Ben figured that if he was ever as lonely as Stan was, he would probably be mean and bitter. But he guessed Stan had been lonely since he was little. _ _

__Some people are just built lonely._ _

__“It’s not,” Ben said, working up the courage to reply in a way other than blind agreement. “It’s not consolation, I mean. I know that we’re not close at all-“_ _

__“That’s not true-“_ _

__“-It’s plenty true, now listen here a minute, Stan.” Ben flushed a little at his sharp tone and, without thinking, he set a hand on Stan’s knee to steady him. “We haven’t ever been close. Not ever. So it makes sense not to speak to me about something as private as your body or your illnesses. But Bill is your best friend, and you’re the closest to him besides Richie. And you’re close enough that you were chosen to share rooms here. So if you don’t talk to me about it, please just talk to Bill or Rich about it, okay?” He was made aware of his hand, suddenly, and he took it off like it was burning under Stan’s gaze, for he was looking at it. “Just think about it.”_ _

__He got up, squeezing Stan’s dainty hand with his own, much larger one, before taking it off his chest and padding to the doorway. He paused, feeling Stan’s eyes on the back of his neck, and turned around as he exited._ _

__“Oh, and I agree that you shouldn’t go and see a therapist. You’d either be one of the hysterical cryers by minute ten or you’d end up sitting in silence with the therapist until the session ended.” Ben thought that he should know; he had, after all, majored in psychology and was working at a therapy clinic for drug a rehabilitation center. He heard a snort from behind him at his observation, and smiled to himself at getting Stan to sort of laugh. “Night, Stan.” His voice was softer than it had been at first, but he shut the door with the small snap and headed to his own room to sit and let his still-pounding heart settle as he texted Beverly._ _

__—————_ _

__Stan seemed to have been stirred into noticing Ben by their talk in the coming weeks, they were constantly running into eachother, suddenly. Ben noticed. Not at first, but he did. Stan would be there to help him take groceries in where he hadn’t before, he’d have special requests for dinner that he insisted he had to help Mike and him cook, he even went as far as to walk Ben out to his car in the morning. The others took a little notice and began to complain that Ben was taking the Stan Attention away from them, but Stan reminded them with a sharp tongue that he wasn’t obligated to talk to any of them if he didn’t want to, and wasn’t he allowed to talk to one of his partners and want to help around the house?_ _

__Mike had then commented softly that if Stan really wanted to help in an outstanding way he could consider doing a mass top-to-bottom house clean, something he would usually do with great pleasure, but he considered it for what seemed to be half a second and inexplicably refused. Mike had shrugged in mock exasperation and walked out of the kitchen where Ben and Stan had been separating blacks from the white for Washing Sunday, the weekly ritual that Ben had been somehow eternally assigned._ _

__“Why’d you say no to that opportunity?” Ben asked finally, once Mike was out of earshot._ _

__Stan shrugged. “I’m doing this to hang out with you,” he said matter-of-factly, and Ben felt a weird mix of anxiety and pride. Stan wanted to hang out with him, all of a sudden? That was a first, in Ben’s eyes._ _

__“Why?”_ _

__“Why not?” Stan said simply. “You said last week that we’re not close, so I’m trying to remedy that. I listen to everything you’ve say for an hour or so a day just doing these chores. And I also figured it was time to come out of my room and contribute to this little kibbutz we have going. I’m trying to make up for being the emo teenage son of a single  
mother and making you slave away for us without helping, because no one else around here does.” _ _

__Ben almost laughed aloud both from giddiness and how funny Stan was being. He had such a sharp wit, it was hard not to laugh at him almost 24/7. “I’m not sure that our 7 person intensely sexual relationship should be compared to a family of siblings and a mother. You’re doing this just to get go know me? What have you found?”_ _

__“You love to cook food that feels like it’s a cheat meal but is actually good for you. You hate doing dishes by hand in case your hand touches food but you do it anyway because you like filling the sink with all the warm water and soap and playing with it. You have very concrete opinions of what constitutes a good washing machine, and this must include having a clear porthole so that you can see the clothes inside because it looks cool and it makes the cats happy. You have a superhuman ability to cut onions without crying. I can go on, do you want me to?”_ _

__Ben had stopped what he was doing to look up at the taller man and shook his head. “Those are all good observations. But you didn’t list anything I’ve talked about at all.”_ _

__“Well, I’ve been too busy helping you do shit to listen to talking, I guess…” Stan trailed off, a trace of guilt in his voice, and Ben smiled at him sweetly as he went back to separating out Beverly’s good bras and panties to be handwashed separate._ _

__“That’s fine. I’m not mad.”_ _

__“I didn’t say you would be.”_ _

__They stared at eachother for a moment, neither making any sort of advance._ _

__Ben knew Stan’s game; he was in it for the long haul. He always did this. He played cat and mouse with his chosen victim until they broke from sexual frustration and gave him what he wanted. He’d watched Eddie and Bill and Richie fall prey go it, but Ben wasn’t going to. He wasn’t going to give Stan what he wanted until he decided that Stan had showed him reason to. Stan had been basically neglecting him for years and years; the most he’d done was kiss Ben with a tiny bit of tongue in eleventh grade. He wasn’t about to just slink in with his sly attitude and his long, lean legs and romance Ben right away. He’d have to show some true affection and learning if Ben was  
going to be so willingly romanced. _ _

__“We’re not so different, you and I,” Ben murmured, repeating what Stan had said that first night to himself, and it was true. Both of them had a terrible propensity to deny themselves anything they wanted. Including, it appeared, eachother._ _

__“What?” Stan raised an eyebrow at the slurred words, and Ben shook his head softly._ _

__“Why don’t you let yourself get what you want directly?” Ben asked absently, changing the subject, and moved out of the way to let Stan open the washing machine door to put in the blacks._ _

__Stan’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly and his pretty mouth set into a tiny smirk. He finished loading the massive heap of what was mostly Richie’s band tees into the washer and added a detergent pod in, starting it before pulling himself up to his full height and putting a sure hand right on the crotch of Ben’s Levis, palming up slightly and feeling his friend’s cock betray a slight interest beneath the layers of fabric. He said nothing, only lazily kept working his hand on the spot for another moment or two before taking it away as soon as it started to harden against his hand. His smirk grew wider, and his eyes flicked up to meet Ben’s as he stepped away._ _

__“I _always_ get _exactly_ what I want.” He said it confidently, as if saying, ‘I-know-you-know-what-I-mean’, and walked away, back to his room, leaving Ben with a still-slowly hardening cock and something to think about. _ _

__—————_ _

__The next saturday, Ben was grateful because it was barely three o’clock in the afternoon and he was completely and blissfully alone. In a house of 7 people who were almost always with at least one of the other people, it was a hard feat to achieve._ _

__Ben usually used this time to do some living-room karaoke on the Nickelodeon themed machine Richie had bought last christmas or to cook himself something weird that the others would tease him for, but he wasn’t feeling either of those. He laid in bed a bit longer, considering his endless options, before he finally decided._ _

__He would take a bath. But not just any bath- he was going to take a bath using one of the many, many bath bombs that Mike, Stan and Beverly managed to collect over a six month period, which was how long Eddie claimed it took for them to go bad and start going ‘rancid’, whatever that meant in this context. Usually, before they all went ‘rancid’, Richie and Bill would take them outside, fill the kiddie pool with them, and fill it with water little by little until they had a very strongly herbal scented sludge that they used to play some sort of weird paintball game with. The others, despite the fact that Bill and Richie did smell wonderful (if a bit overpowering) after these play sessions, were not fond of it, Ben included, so he decided the less amount of ‘rancid’ bath bombs available to them in a few months the better._ _

__He ran the bath as hot as he could, loving the feel of it almost burning his skin, and added a lavender-smelling bath bomb to the tub while he fiddled with his phone, texting Beverly to let her know he was using one and tapping through his Instagram explore while he waited for the bath bomb to work. It did, quickly, and he quickly put his phone down to set to work lathering his hair up with a sample treatment Richie had given him. He had much too much hair to use the sample treatment, he had claimed as he shook his head of unruly black curls, and thrust it upon him. Now seemed as good as time as any to use it. It also smelled like lavender, Ben noted, his head cloudy from the heat, and that meant the smells matched. Was that a thing? Matching smells?_ _

__He stayed in the tub with his eyes closed contemplating various Ben things for almost half an hour before he got out. He, unlike Eddie, did not want to be sitting in a pool of cold water. Eddie had taken to preferring ice baths after he did free weights, and Ben was convinced something with screwy in his head, because he really fully sat in a tub of ice chips and cold water for twenty minutes and called it a ‘cool down’. Ben thought that was a little much, even for his own fitness taste, which some of the Losers thought was crazy enough._ _

__As he tied a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom, meandering to the kitchen to see what kinds of fruit they had in the fridge, he heard the pattering of besocked feet against the wood flooring behind him. Ben whipped around and came to face Stan, who was standing at a distance from where Ben was poking through the fridge. Fuck! He was so sure he was alone, but he guessed he didn’t for sure hear Stan leave, after all._ _

__Neither of them were wearing much, Ben told himself as he went to cover his bare torso with his hands, really if their clothes were put together they would make an outfit. not a great one, but they wouldn’t be arrested for public indecency._ _

__Stan was wearing some sort of oversized dress shirt, definitely specially bought to be a baggy sleep shirt, and the quality of the pearlescent stitching of the thin cream colored pinstripes on a white fabric told Ben it had to be designer. He looked so dainty in it, almost feminine with his high hips and tight ass that were basically on full display in the nearly sheer shirt, and Ben couldn’t help but take notice. His socks were cute too, covered in cats and bluebirds, and Stan seemed to ignore that Ben was painstakingly checking him out._ _

__“Is that your shirt?” The question was unprompted and asked with little fanfare, and Stan smiled slightly._ _

__“Like it? No, it’s Bill’s, but I bought it for him, so I can wear it if I want.” He said it with the smugness of someone who had won an argument for a right._ _

__“It’s very pretty,” Ben offered. “I don’t know much about fashion. Beverly usually chooses what I wear.” Ben said this with no shame; everyone coveted Beverly dressing them, and Ben was lucky enough to get it every day._ _

__Something flickered in Stan’s eyes, and he ran a hand over the counter as he walked closer to Ben. He’d probably just woken up, but he still looked better than Ben did after getting ready for an hour in some unfair decision of nature. “Do you like her choosing for her?”_ _

__He stopped himself, almost falling into the trap. “It’s just fine,” Ben replied carefully. “I don’t mind it at all.”_ _

__“Do you like it, though?”_ _

__He chuckled at Stan’s persistence, shaking his head and trying at walking past him with an orange in his hands. It was frozen solid from the freezer in something Richie called an alligator egg, which was literally just a frozen orange that you opened and ate like a grapefruit. It was a good alternative to popsicles. “I know what you’re doing, Stan. It won’t work.”_ _

__Stan didn’t react or ever seen to hear, simply catching Ben by the hip as he walked by and pulling Stan to face him. He let Ben’s hip go and simply kept him there with his head bent and buried in the crook of Ben’s neck. Stan slowly nosed down his throat and along the mirror of his spine with a steadiness and tranquility that Ben was awed by. He sank slowly onto his knees with insane self control (seriously, his legs didn’t shake once in his slow descent) until he was totally kneeling in front of Ben, hands in his lap, head leaning against his firm stomach. He inhaled deeply as he kneeled there, and finally spoke._ _

__“Is that lavender?” He said it casually, as if his chin wasn’t inches from rubbing against Ben’s dick, and the alligator egg was forgotten._ _

__Ben husked out a “y-yeah, it was a bath bomb,” and Stan smiled. Ben could feel it right where his stretch marks were. Oh shit, he’d almost forgot his stretch marks- he was aware of them now, though, and he tried to cover them subtly with his hands before Stan reached up and moved his hands to brace on the counter._ _

__“Don’t cover up your stomach,” Stan said quietly, voice almost detached from the clear order. Something evil in Ben made him want to follow along with it and betray his own promise to not fall prey to this, but Stan’s tone was so soothing and sure, Ben almost immediately followed the direction and reluctantly let his hands be pinned to the granite countertop. “Good boy,” he said absentmindedly, as if his mind was, could be, anywhere but there._ _

__Ben’s mind was nearly wiped clean at the utterance of those words. “Good boy”. He’d been called that a few times by Bev, mostly when he’d had a bad day and she was trying to loosen him up, but none of those times had given him anything close to the jolt of pure desire that Stan calling him that had. Maybe it was the low timbre to Stan’s voice, how dominant it was even from what was basically between his legs, or how Stan’s eyes were tracking over every inch of Ben’s skin like he was hungry for it, or maybe just how all of Stan’s attention was clearly completely on him. Bill let out a shaky moan when Stan brought one hand up to rub at a sensitive spot near the head of Ben’s cock; the terrycloth of the towel rubbed against it as if it was sandpaper, and wow, Ben hadn’t even noticed that he was hard, but he really was now. He unintentionally bucked his hips forward at the touch, but Stan took his hand quickly away and pressed his hips against the kitchen island once again._ _

__“Do you like that?” There was a smile slowly creeping into Stan’s voice. “Do you like being a good boy, Ben?”_ _

__Ben said nothing, only nodded slightly, ashamed at the ease with which the two words had suddenly taken his will into a vicelike grip._ _

__“Words, Benjamin,” Stan breathed as he began to stand back up, drawing himself up to be taller than Ben was once again. “I’ll ask again. Do you like being a good boy?” Stan’s deft fingers found Ben’s noticeably tented towel again and pressed down almost maddeningly on the spot in question. Ben was whining again in seconds, brought down into pieces by how easily Stan did that._ _

__“Y-yes, Stan, I do,” he said, hoping it would be complete enough. He’d heard and read about this the sort of sex Stan liked to have and people said this part was supposed to be humiliating- Ben didn’t feel humiliated, really, if a little exposed and a lot like he was wearing too many clothes at once, but he was beginning to feel hot at Stan’s totally focused gaze._ _

__“You do what, Ben? What do you like?”_ _

__“I- I like being a good boy,” he said dumbly, “please, just… let me.” He wasn’t sure what ket me meant himself; he supposed it meant a lot of things. ‘Let me be a good boy’. ‘Let me away from here so we can go somewhere decent’. ‘Let me take all your clothes off and suck you off right here’. Ben supposed those were a few options, and any of them seemed fine, but Stan had other ideas._ _

__“If you want to be a good boy, you can ask for it, to start with.” His eyes betrayed no sort of humor._ _

__Ben swallowed, his throat clicking dry, before he gathered his words back together. “Please, Stan, let me be a good boy.” He tried to keep his voice steady despite the embarrassment he felt at the words; he supposed it really was humiliating to have to ask to be gotten off when the person already knew you wanted it. Or, that’s what Ben supposed he was asking for, until he was suddenly at the foot of Stan’s california king bed sitting with a pillow under his knees so he wouldn't get rug burn, looking up at Stan as he half-sat, half-stood to let Ben kneel level to his cock._ _

__Ben’s eyes flicked to Stan as he sized up the situation, and Stan didn’t even smile- just ran hands through his hair and said reassuringly, “come on, you asked to be a good boy. I think you letting me throatfuck you would count as being good, don’t you?” Stan’s hands, soft and pure in contrast to his dirty words, threaded through Ben’s golden hair as he looked up at Stan._ _

__“I want to, I just- I’ve. I’ve never really…” Ben trailed off, averting his eyes from Stan as he realized how truly inexperienced he was._ _

__Stan’s fingers were firm as they grabbed his chin and put his head back in place. “It’s okay,” Stan said, petting through Ben’s hair in a way that felt almost possessive to Ben. “I’ll guide you.”_ _

__“Yes, Stan,” Ben mumbled again, opening his mouth as wide as he could to let Stan slide in without any trouble. Okay. Good. Check. He supposed, and Stan’s tiny whine of pleasure confirmed, that there was not much else to do besides let Stan fuck his throat how he wanted._ _

__The pulls were slow, Stan taking his time as he rolled his hips into it. Ben fixed his eyes on it, unbearably hard just from being this close to Stan. He was so, so gorgeous up close, all of his skin a creamy blend of pale and something a bit darker, more sallow, and all his bones showing in just the right places. So desirably slim and dainty, and yet so clearly powerful just from his presence. He loved the juxtaposition of the tall, thin, reedy frame and his internal strength he had._ _

__“Good boy,” Stan said easily, breaking the silence while he kept up his same rhythm. “Are you always this easy to control with Beverly? I’m a little jealous of her. You were so difficult for me, I’d never expect you wanted to be good.” He punctuated the last syllable with a deep thrust of his hips and Ben didn’t quite gag, but he swallowed around Stan and he heard Stan stifle a moan. He guessed that was the right thing to do, and he was in the mind of doing it again, but Stan pulled out as quick as he could and hoisted Ben up basically by the scruff of his neck to lay flat on the bed. He noticed the small, messy patch of precum soaking through the white towel and smirked._ _

__“Did you do this?” He asked as he reached to touch it as if Ben wasn’t very clearly the one whose hard dick was leaking precome. “Just from letting me throatfuck you? Do you want that badly to be good?” Ben simply nodded, too transfixed by the way Stan was circling his slit with a fingernail through the towel to speak, and he rutted up into the waiting hand to try to get more friction than just the maddening drag of Stan’s perfectly manicured fingernail._ _

__Stan seemed to consider something for a moment before he talked again._ _

__“You’ve done that a few times to me, Ben, do you know that?” Ben said he guessed he had. “And do you know what I think that constitutes?” Ben replied that he didn’t, and Stan looked up from the circle he was outlining with that cursed finger. “I think that constitutes teaching you some rules, because I hate pets who are greedy like that.”_ _

__His head spinning from being called a pet, a mention of a lesson, Ben simply nodded. “Do whatever you want, Stan.”_ _

__“Good boy. That’s lesson number one, actually,” Stan continued as he unwrapped the towel around Ben’s waist. “You nailed it. I do whatever _I_ want unless you say a safeword. Do you want one today?” _ _

__“I’ll just say stop,” Ben said, trying his best to be casual with Stan straddling his legs as he looked inquiringly at his dick._ _

__Stan nodded wordlessly, hand moving to the head of Ben’s cock to gather the precome. Ben hissed at the sensitive contact until Stan was pumping him at the perfect speed, the perfect twist, perfect everything, and Ben already felt himself building up. He’d never been a very long laster._ _

__“If you keep doing that I’ll come right now,” Ben breathed, and Stan immediately stopped. Ben whimpered at the sudden halt when he was just beginning to feel so good, wanting just a little more, that’s all it would take, but the feeling was already fading._ _

__“That’s rule number two,” Stan said crisply. “No coming unless I tell you.” He had already begun pumping again as he spoke, and Ben nodded. “Can you handle that?”_ _

__“I th-think so,” Ben hissed, already feeling the urge to come racing back. Damn, if Stan wasn’t good with his fingers._ _

__“You better be, Ben, because if you don’t have that much self control I’m going to stop right now and you’ll get a lesson in it.” The scolding tone shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but Ben couldn’t help it._ _

__“I’m t-trying, Stan, but I’m not used to it…” He trailed off to try to keep hold, and he guessed Stan noticed._ _

__“Not used to it, huh? You having a hard time there, Ben?” Stan’s tone was light, as if stroking Ben off and talking to him wasn’t enough to give him a hard time. “I knew Beverly spoiled you, but did she teach you at least orgasm delay? It’s the least she could do.” Ben flushed pink at the words, especially being called spoiled, and wanted to protest, but Stan caught his indignance before he even spoke. “It’s true, so don’t dispute it. Bev’s spoiled you rotten. The first things _my_ pets learn is how to behave. They know how to _listen_ to me.” At ‘listen’, he tugged upwards as quick as he could and Ben barely suppressed the urge to come, practically seeing stars. He knew this was almost shamefully short, but he’d never been edged in his _life_ and this was all too much and pretty soon he was begging to come_ _

__“Please, please, Stan, I’m trying to listen, just please can’t I come, I can’t last much longer, I want to be good, just- I- please…” He faded out when Stan finally, finally gave him the last few strokes he needed to come and they kissed at last. Ben was almost dizzy with how long he’d waited, and he flopped back on the bed with an exaggerated relief that made Stan laugh as he laid down beside him._ _

__There was a beat as Stan grabbed the towel to wipe Ben clean before he pulled him into a tight spoon, his legs wrapping around his waist, and Ben was so taken aback he could only manage to say “so it’s true. You do only cuddle after… that.”_ _

__“Yes, only after _that_ ,” he replied drily. “Consider yourself lucky. I went easy.” _ _

__“What’s not easy?”_ _

__Stan looked almost surprised Ben was bold enough to ask, but the answer was easy enough._ _

__“Well… with Bill, its edging longer than that. He’s gone days, but that was with a cockring, he could never do that without one. And Richie gets choked quite a bit because he can’t shut the fuck up, like, ever.” He noticed Ben’s shock, and added quickly, “none if which you have to do if you don’t want to. You don’t even have to do this again. No pressure.”_ _

__“No, no, I want to again, I just…” He trailed off, scared to say it, but he was still riding the high of the orgasm he’d had and so he managed to say it. “I really, really wanna be good. Was I good?”_ _

__Stan smiled, brushing Ben’s hair back from his face and kissing him again. “You were so good, Ben,” he cooed. “Especially for your first time, being so unprepared. I was surprised. The first time Bill did it, he came on my face. Which was all fun and games until he realized he liked doing it and now he tries to do it every time.” Ben laughed at the thought, and Stan drew him even closer to his chest._ _

__“Thank you for these past few weeks, Ben,” Stan said shyly, after a moment. It was the first time Ben had ever heard Stan’s voice sound like that. “It’s helped a lot. And you gave me a real runaround.”_ _

__Ben nodded, agreeing, and said softly, “but it was worth it in the end, huh?”_ _

__Stan looked knowingly at him and he reached a hand between their entangled legs to run a single finger along the vein underside Ben’s cock. “Mhm. Because, Ben… I always get _exactly_ what I want.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr- @jewishstanuris
> 
> thank you for the comments!  
> thank you for the support!


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